Yep. I took a really long drink from the beer and kept going until I’d drained all of it and then stood. With the belch, I walked past both of them and into the kitchen. The air between them swelled with tension. I was going to need another beer, and a cigarette, since I had a damn good idea of where this conversation was going. If we kept going down this path, shit was gonna get real.
Neither man had moved while I was in the kitchen, in fact they were both standing there in a little hallway between the kitchen and living room, glaring at each other. Well, Milo was glaring. Kellan wore an expression that was far closer to unimpressed resignation than anger.
"The hell do you want me to do, Kellan?" Milo demanded he spread his arms. "I don't know what I don't know. And clearly, I don't know a lot right now."
No way Kellan missed what Milo had just said. I replayed it in my head twice. I’d had one beer, it wasn’t like I was even tipsy. While I wouldn’t make assumptions, I was half-ready to throw myself into their conversation. Still, I held back. Milo and I had only just reached a detente where we weren’t throwing fists every time we looked at each other.
If he kept going down this path though, I was not gonna be responsible for the fist that I plowed into his face.
“Well, let’s try this for starters: talk to us.” Kellan pointed his beer at him. “You’re still pissed at us because we took her. Fine. Whatever. We took her for a reason. While I might not have agreed with Jasper in the beginning, I do now. In fact, I think we should have taken her a whole lot sooner.” He stepped into the growing chasm between him and Milo. “I’ve heard her nightmares. Heard her screams. If they were that bad after she’d been here and safe for months… I can’t imagine what they will be after this.”
Milo flinched. So did I. I hadn't heard her nightmares. Kellan had mentioned them in passing that she needed to not be alone and then…
Well, then Milo came home and exiled her to Liam’s. I tightened my grip on the bottle and then took another long drink. Like I said, if I thought about this too much, Milo and I were going to throw down again. I didn’t think he would be the one getting up this time. And there was no way in hell I was gonna take out my frustration and my anger on my brother.
Not yet, anyway.
Milo slumped back against the wall but despite his posture, it wasn't defeat. He might be exhausted from the battle he'd been waging — all on his own by his own damn choice, thank you Kellan — but he wasn't ready to give up. Surrender wasn’t in Milo's DNA. Having gotten to know Emersyn, I was dead certain it was impossible for either of them. That genetic quirk definitely won out over nurture.
That knowledge just circled me right back around to why the hell she chose to leave, to go back to a place she didn’t want to be. Why would she surrender when we would have fucking fought for her? Would have? We’d still damn well do it. We already were. Liam mentioned the photographs, but the prick wouldn't show me. I guess they thought I would lose my shit.
I was on the fucking edge of it right now.
Freddie knew in his soul that she did not want to go, but she went anyway. Freddie, who spent so long trying to destroy himself and not understanding that anyone would care, suddenly had a reason to care. If I hadn’t already loved her — I’d love her for that alone. Yet, here we all were, fucking sitting around with our thumbs up our ass while he got himself locked up into that rich lockup.
Prison was a prison.
I've been in a cage my whole life. I'm not going back into it again.
The whisper of her voice in no way robbed it of her ferocity or her determination. Guilt raked through me. At one point, all I'd seen was a spoiled brat. A spoiled brat in danger, and being hurt. That was utterly unacceptable on every level. But nothing about Emersyn was spoiled.
No, the more I’d gotten to know my swan, the more I’d seen her grow stronger and watched her with the guys here—the idea of her being a “spoiled anything” couldn’t be further from the truth. Emersyn Sharpe belonged here. Maybe it wasn’t her world, or maybe I hadn’t wanted it to be, but she fit. Here. She fit us.
That didn't mean she couldn’t be bratty. Nothing wrong with being a bit of a brat, look at Freddie.
“Milo, let us in," Kellan said. "Let us help. We’re doing it anyway, make no mistake about that. And hijackers or no hijackers, the moment we get word on her and Freddie, we’re going.”
Couldn't agree more. In fact, I didn't say a goddamn word. Kellan pretty much had it sewed up. Maybe we should promote him to being in charge. He had his shit together.
Milo scowled. "I don't know how to fix this."
And therein lay the problem. I could have kissed Kellan for that. Because Kellan saw it just as clearly as I did. Milo's desire to control everything had to do with smoothing the way and making sure things went right for everyone. Especially Ivy.
Ivy had been the gravity binding his world together. The higher she flew, the stronger his hold was. And now, finding out that she'd gone through traumas we knew nothing about just left him floundering. This wasn’t just her asshole dance partner raping and abusing her. We took care of that. That—that had been preferable to the alternative. So, what the actual fuck was her family doing to her?
The desire to talk to Lainey, to get answers, flooded me.
Milo looked at me. "Where you going?"
"I’m going to talk to the one source we have sitting right here, who can give us some answers." Someone who had already given us some answers.
“No,” Milo snapped. I fisted my temper as tight as I could.
"Explain why, and make it reasonable," Kellan interrupted. "Or understand that you’re facing a two against one on this vote right now.”
For a brief moment, I locked eyes with Kellan. My brother had my back. In this—there were no words for this. We both focused on Milo. He couldn’t keep controlling everything if he didn’t know what the hell to do with it. Well, in this case, her.
"I'll ask the questions," Milo said. “I'll talk to her. I should be the one who hears about it."
"New plan," Kellan said, "we'll talk to her. Together."
Worked for me. I put my empty bottle down and headed for the stairs. Milo called after me, but he didn't follow. I don't know if it was because Kellan blocked him or because he’d given in. Part of me really hoped that Kellan had blocked him, because as hard as it was to see Milo like this, the idea that Milo surrendered — well, that shit was a thousand percent worse.
I paused outside of Kellan's door on my way to Milo's room. I wanted so desperately to walk into Emersyn’s room. Spend a little time where she had been. I hadn’t allowed myself once in the days since Milo sent her away.
The longing hit like a sledgehammer but I fought against the urge. I needed her back more than I needed to feel sorry for myself. In fact, what I needed to do was keep going down to the end of the hall, let myself in Milo's room, get Lainey whatever the hell her last name was and take her downstairs. Then we needed to find out everything she knew about those sharks.
That was what I needed to do.
Swan, you better hold on. You better keep fighting. I know you've got a hellspawn inside of you… I rolled my eyes at the internal dialogue. Like she could hear me. And seriously, when was the last fucking time I bothered with prayer?